这个杀手不太冷Léon: The Professional Movie Script

Office 2702 at FBI, 5th Avenue, 68th Street.

Leon is pale. Open mouth.

LEON:

And... How do you know all this?

MATHILDA (as if it's evident) The above Norman was in my home when I was there, and I followed him, that's all.

Leon tries to keep calm.

LEON:

Are you calmly telling me you spent the day at FBI?

She shrugs her shoulders.

MATHILDA:

No! I can't come in! I remained outside! And why do you mind this?

You've got client's name, money's on the

table:

it's a good contract, isn't it?

Leon looks at her, then looks at the money.

LEON:

Not taken.

MATHILDA:

Why?

LEON:

Too heavy.

Mathilda thinks fast.

MATHILDA:

Well... Then may you rent me your gear for the day?

LEON:

I never rent my gear.

Blocked on every front, she sweetly starts crying.

MATHILDA:

Why are you doing this to me, Leon? Why don't you take me with you for contracts?

If you teach me, we'll can do mine together! That would be good, wouldn't it?

Leon intensely look at her, neither severe, nor badly. Just cold, like an iceberg.

LEON:

Mathilda, nothing is the same, after you kill someone. Your life changes forever.

You'll can never cancel it, neither from your memory, nor from your criminal record... You'll never sleep again like before, Mathilda.

Mathilda dries up her tears. She's abandoned, exhausted.

MATHILDA:

If you knew, Leon...! I killed one thousand in my head... And this never disturbed my sleep.